He ran a hand down her hair, the touch reverent as his eyes drank her in.
Fane could relate. It was hard to leave a true mate behind. It was hard to be separated, but at times, it was a necessity.
“Y’all do what you gotta do,” Sally said. “We’ll make sure Thia and Titus don’t bring the compound down around them. We should seriously reconsider their friendship.”
“Thia is pretty possessive of him,” Jen ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face. “Good luck prying him out of Thia’s fat baby fingers.”
“Oh, I’ll leave that up to Gavril,” Sally told her. “I plan to eat popcorn and watch.”
“Smart woman.” Jen held up a fist to her. “That’s why you’ve always been the brain of the group.”
“Hey, what am I?” Jacque’s brow furrowed.
“The reasonable one,” Jen said. “You’re the one that reins in my crazy and Sally’s way-too-nice-ness.”
“That’s not even a word.” Sally stood and headed for the door, Costin on her heels, no doubt to give her a proper goodbye with no eyes watching them.
“It is now.” Jen grinned. “It’s in the new Jen Dictionary I’m writing.”
“Of course you’re writing your own damn dictionary.” Sally sighed as she exited the room with Costin, Kara, and Nick behind her.
Moments later, Nick and Costin returned. Fane turned back to the healer females still present. “I’m not entirely certain how your magic can aid our cause, but I have faith it will guide us somehow.”
Rachel gave him a small smile. “Our healing gifts uniquely connect us to the spirit realm. If evil leaves traces there, we may be able to follow them like a trail of breadcrumbs.”
“Then let us begin.” Fane cleared the center of the room so the healers could sit in a circle.
“Focus your energy inward. Connect with your power,” Rachel told them.
The women clasped hands, breathing slowing as they dropped into meditative states. The air itself seemed to still, magic coalescing around the circle like a living thing.
Fane watched in quiet awe as Rachel murmured an incantation. The foreign words resonated with ancient power, followed by the other healers’ soft harmonies.
A gasp from Anna caused their heads to jerk up. Her eyes were wide and distant. “I can see it. A black vein weaving through the spirit plane.” Anna’s brow furrowed in concentration. “There’s sickness spreading from it into the light. It must be the hybrids’ evil influence.”
“We have to follow it,” Stella said urgently. “Before it disappears.”
The healers delved back into their trancelike states, magic swirling. Fane could only watch and hope they found what was needed. If this darkness could be traced to its source, it might lead them right to the hybrids.
Long moments passed in tense silence. Finally, Rachel’s eyes flew open. “I know where they are. We need to go. Now.”
Fane’s muscles coiled in anticipation as the transporting fae’s magic enveloped the warriors, whisking them straight to the abandoned warehouse Rachel had pinpointed. They materialized just outside the crumbling structure, its gaping entrance beckoning ominously.
The overpowering stench, choking and sickly sweet, hit Fane instantly. There was no doubt the hybrids lurked within. Their evil permeated the very air. Fane bared his teeth in a wolfish snarl of disgust. Today it ended.
With a rumbling growl, he signaled the attack. The wolves at his side erupted forward in a tide of snapping jaws and rending claws. Fane followed close behind, magic already crackling at his fingertips.
They poured through the front entrance in a blur of fur, fangs, and supernatural speed. Inside the cavernous space, the hybrids whirled to meet their assault with enraged roars.
Fane cursed under his breath, seeing not just hybrids but at least two dozen humans who bore the sharp fangs and too-pale skin of recent turns. The hybrids’ bites could create vampires. They would have to be doubly cautious.
The two forces collided brutally in the warehouse’s center. Guttural sounds of battle filled the air. The space was thick with wet tearing, furious snarls, and screams of rage and pain. The stench of fresh blood bloomed, thick and choking.
Fane waded into the chaos, flexing his power. He phased his fingers to claws and whipped out his hands, scraping them across throats of the enemy, dropping hybrids in convulsing heaps as blood sprayed from their fatal wounds. He had to trust his warriors to handle the vampires. The hybrids were the greatest threat.
On his left flank, Sorin was a whirlwind of death, tearing through opponents with savage precision. Still, Fane kept the large wolf in his periphery, ready to shield him if needed. His old friend would never retreat from a fight willingly.
Nearby, Decebel and Jen fought as a seamless team, guarding each other’s backs with lethal speed and efficiency. Fane watched Jen hamstring a massive hybrid before her mate’s jaws tore out its throat in a spray of crimson. Their bond made them a dangerous duo.
